Excitement and trepidation roiled in Kat’s belly as she got on the tour bus with Klement and the guys to head to Thrashfest.
Although she’d been to the festival six times before, it was obviously never under these circumstances. Instead of taking a four-day bus trip, today she’d flown first class. Instead of taking a taxi to the nearby campground or a cheap motel, they were staying at The Alpine Valley Resort, which looked like a Bavarian villa from a fairy tale. Even though she hated snow and ice with the heat of a thousand suns, Kat had to admit the place probably looked incredible in the winter during ski season—and it looked just fine now in the late spring. She and Kinley had taken pictures of it before but never gotten the chance to see the inside. This time, she and Klement were sharing a suite. The only down side was that, for the first time, she hadn’t gotten to see the first day, which was comprised of awesome debut bands who were not only great candidates for Metalness interviews, but also served to help her and Kinley find new music to rock out to. It was all about the music.
This time, however, Kat would be there not as a spectator or even a journalist, but as a performer. Bleeding Vengeance would be part of the second day, which was reserved for the titans of metal.
She dug in her purse for her Xanax and took a half a pill, saving the other half for before they went on stage. Klement squeezed her hand. Rod and Cliff gave her wary looks. So Kat wasn’t the only one worried that she’d freeze up from stage fright.
I won’t let them down, she silently vowed. I can do this.
As if in affirmation, the first people they saw when they piled out of the bus and entered the backstage area were Viciӧus.
Momentarily forgetting her worries, Kat ran over and enfolded her friend in a bear hug. “Oh my God, Kin, is it really you?”
“I was about to say the same.” Kinley picked her up and twirled her around. Normally Kat hated that, but her tall friend could get away with anything.
“How’s it going with Viciӧus?” She glanced back and saw Klement and Quinn immersed in conversation then lowered her voice. “And with Quinn?”
Kinley grinned, but she also fiddled with her long dark braid. “Great. Except that, since Curt’s still in rehab, they want me to help write songs for the next album. They said they like my technique, but I’m scared shitless. I’m not anywhere near as creative as you. What if I blow it?”
“You’re going to be fine. When we get back to Coeur d’Alene, I’ll jam with you and see what we can come up with.”
Kat bit her lip and thought of leaving Klement. She couldn’t imagine him abandoning his home to live with her and her mom. So could she leave her mother and her best friend to live with him? Would he even want her to?
As if reading her mind, Kinley leaned close. “What about you and Bleeding Vengeance? And Klement?”
As quickly as she could, Kat filled her friend in on the recording sessions and how she fit in with the band, finishing with her developing relationship with Klement. With a laugh she added, “He called me as IT Guy and asked me to meet him for dinner.”
Kinley’s eyes were wide as dinner plates. “No way. How did that go?”
“Awkward at first, but then it was so romantic.” She couldn’t hold back a breathy sigh.
Her friend uttered a strange-sounding laugh. “That reminds me…”
She trailed off and strode over to Klement.
“Ow!” he yelled when she punched him in the arm. “What was that for?”
“For not telling me and Kat that you were our tech support guy for our website.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
The guys from both Bleeding Vengeance and Viciӧus stared at Klement like he’d grown an extra head. Except for Quinn. He leaned against the wall, sipping his beer with a smug smile.
His nonchalance did not escape Kat’s notice. Eyes narrowed, she rounded on him. “You knew?”
“It wasn’t my secret to tell.” He toasted Klement with his beer. Kinley smacked him then, albeit not as hard as she’d hit Klem. He rubbed his arm and gave her a smoldering yet playful look.
Kat felt warm watching them. They were so in love, it was clear.
Klement gave Kinley a perplexed look. “I did tell Kat. And she didn’t see the need to hit me. In fact, she said you helped her understand my reasons for secrecy.”
Kinley didn’t seem to have a good argument for that, so she headed back to Kat. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” she whispered.
“Yes.” The word emerged as a pained cry.
“Then I won’t hit him anymore unless he hurts you.”
An unjustly beautiful blonde woman approached. Her lips were curved in a seductive smile, but her cornflower blue eyes were cold. Kat disliked her on sight.
“Fuck,” Kinley hissed through her teeth. “It’s Marianne.”
Kat glanced back at the Barbie-esque woman and noticed the press pass clipped to her blouse. “The bitch from Rocktalk who exposed you and Quinn?”
“Yeah. Did you know that she’s slept with practically half of the bands here? Even Quinn—but before we met,” she added quickly. “It’s like she’s some kind of twisted, skanky collector.”
Had she slept with Klement? Kat couldn’t hold back the dreadful thought.
To her dismay, Marianne sauntered over to the guys of Bleeding Vengeance. Her stomach knotted. Was she the scheduled interview they’d mentioned?
Then she saw that no matter how much Marianne batted her eyelashes and swayed her hips, Klement, Rod, and even Cliff ignored her. Kat silently cheered as Cliff shook his head and walked away. She remembered that they’d all been pissed at Marianne’s website for sensationalizing Lefty’s death.
Had Marianne written that article? Given how they were acting, Kat was willing to bet she had.
The reporter’s smile wavered at the band’s cold shoulder, but then her gaze lit on Kat and Kinley. She stalked over to them like a shark smelling blood in the water.
“Damn it,” Kinley muttered. “I cannot handle her catty bullshit. Make her go away.”
Kat felt her lips curve into a wicked smile. “Don’t worry, I will.”
Marianne’s grin broadened until she did resemble a shark. “Well, if it isn’t Metal-Kin and Metal-Kat.” Her predatory eyes focused on Kat. “I see you followed in Kinley’s footsteps. Now both of you are guitarists of famous bands. I am interested to know how you pulled it off.”
“Because we can play guitar,” Kat said slowly, as if speaking to a toddler.
The reporter blinked and frowned before recovering her sharp-toothed grin. “Oh, but I’m sure that sleeping with the lead singers helped.”
Kat stepped forward so quickly that Marianne stumbled back. “No, that’s how you operate. Quit projecting your deluded motives onto other women. First off, I am not sleeping with Cliff. Secondly, Kinley and Quinn’s relationship developed after she’d been the guitar tech for awhile, which you might have learned if you’d bothered to ask instead of sneaking around snapping pictures of them on their first date and posting it all over like some trashy tabloid. Kinley didn’t have to spread her legs for her job any more than she did for her interviews. Unlike you.” She pointed at Marianne, making the woman backtrack another step in her wobbly heels. “Furthermore, it was Curtis who asked Kinley to step in for him, not Quinn.”
As Marianne flushed and took another step back into the corner, Kat continued. “I don’t know what you think to get with talking shit to us, and I know you don’t have an interview scheduled with Bleeding Vengeance or Viciӧus.” She actually didn’t know if the last was true, but with Marianne’s past behavior she was willing to assume so. “So why don’t you get the hell out of here and go do your job and let us do ours in peace.”
Though she was visibly trembling, Marianne managed a derisive sniff. “You’re absolutely right. I am wasting my time talking with a low-tier site…that now has a conflict of interest. I’ll be sure to warn the other bands not to talk to either of you second-rate journalists.”
It was a strong speech, but the woman slunk off like a whipped dog despite her bravado. Kinley whistled and laughed.
“Damn, you put that bitch in her place. Why is it that you can handle catty women? You hate confrontation.”
Kat shrugged. “I think I’m only afraid of confrontations with men. I never know what they’re thinking. Besides, I’ve been wanting to tell her off for a long time.” She frowned. “But she’s right, you know. We kinda are getting into a conflict of interest with the site.”
“I know. That’s why I’ve been looking for guest bloggers, so more of the coverage doesn’t come directly from us anymore. Quinn’s sister is interested.”
Kat laughed. “Quinn’s sister? Isn’t that another sort of conflict?”
“Not as bad as material coming from us, and she can go by an alias. Besides, she’s not the only one who wants to contribute.”
Another worry emerged. “What if Marianne does convince the other bands not to talk to us?”
“I highly doubt she will. Most of these guys can’t stand shit-talking. What she’ll probably do is publish a derogatory post about us on Rocktalk.” Kinley sounded bored. “Which is fine, because it just proves that we have integrity and she doesn’t.”
Before Kat could reply, she heard the music from the stage fade away into the roars of the crowd. Dragonfyre had finished their set, which meant that it was Niteblade’s turn, and after them, Bleeding Vengeance. She’d been so comfortable being reunited with her best friend and distracted by Marianne’s drama that she’d almost forgotten that her onstage debut was imminent. Their roadies would be getting ready for the load-in any minute.
“What’s the matter?” Kinley asked. “You look pale all of a sudden.”
Mouth dry, Kat swallowed. “I just realized I’m going onstage soon.”
Her friend’s warm brown eyes regarded her with sympathy. “I was so scared the first time that I almost barfed. But when I pretended that I was back at a bar playing with you, it got better. Don’t worry. You’re a killer guitarist and you’re going to rock this. They wouldn’t have hired you otherwise.”
“Thanks,” Kat said feebly. “But I’m still going to take another half a Xanax…maybe a full one.” As if in response to her words, her heart sped up. “I’ll be right back.”
Squaring her shoulders, Kat made her way from the backstage area down the hall toward the restrooms, wanting to quickly rejoin her band and make them proud. She dug in her purse for her Xanax bottle. “I can do this. For me, for the band, and for Klement. I won’t let him down.”
Passing a nearby electrical room, she realized the door was strangely ajar. Before she could close it, a hand seized her wrist and yanked her inside. Her Xanax bottle clattered to the floor. Pills scattered everywhere.